


The Fruit of Knowledge

by Yamxz (TightTights)



Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: AU, AU where Satan is alive after LoS2, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Mental Anguish, One Shot, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Loathing, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TightTights/pseuds/Yamxz
Summary: Satan's plan was foiled by Dracula and his son.  He has a reward for them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fun and wholesome fic is dedicated to all the wonderful, delightfully wicked souls of the CV fandom. There's not much Satan/Gabe out there, so I decided to do my part to rectify this. 
> 
> See tags for what you're in for. Your warning is that there are no warnings. You have been warnedly warned.

Shadows and bleary colors cloud his sight. He blinks, and he turns his head as the surroundings solidify into cold stone walls and faded stained glass windows. The cathedral. The one he’d slept in for centuries, his power seeping out, his body shrunk until haggard and frail.

He’s robust and full-bodied now, seated atop the same throne, but his bones and muscles are heavy with the same measure of weariness. Hunger. He doesn’t remember returning here, just his great struggle in the sky, and his son, possessed by his infernal nemesis, raising his sword against him. The fall to Earth rushes back into memory. He must have lost consciousness. _Did he drag himself here? Or did someone…_

His eyes snap open when he feels damp and sticky, and looks down to find his exposed torso coated in a river of blood. He wonders whose blood, until a telling faintness and dizziness seizes his thoughts, and feels more of him outside his body than in. He blinks, trying to summon his remaining strength, but the fatigue douses him

“Father. Are you awake?”

Gabriel jerks at the sound of his son’s voice. Only bare strips of neon lighting filter through broken stained glass, but enough to outline the lazy saunter of a silver wolf emerging into view.

“Trevor?” he says. He tries to stand up, but meets resistance at his wrists and knees. He bares his claws when he finds himself restrained to his throne by iron clasps. “What is this?”

“To keep you where I want you,” the wolf says, his golden eyes flashing.

“What?”

The wolf loses shape, bending and congealing into a chaotic mass until it reforms into his son’s graceful form, his bone white cheeks, lithe torso, long legs, naked and bare. “Though in your state, they may not even be necessary.”

Gabriel forces himself to focus on his son’s eyes, and not on the expanse of sublime, moonlit skin below them. Snarling, he says, “Satan. You _lost._ We defeated you. Slither back to Hell, and stay where you belong. This is _my_ domain.”

A cold smile emerges on Trevor’s pale lips. “Oh really? It’s true that you sabotaged me. I must admire your tenacity as much as your dogged defiance of me. But I may not subjugate this world yet, I can still wreak a _devastating_ havoc.”

Gabriel grunts in an attempt to shapeshift and escape his shackles, but some horrid magic about his restraints neutralizes him. He gasps when a shock of biting pain races up his spine. Regardless, he struggles against them more ferociously when he hears his son’s mischievous chuckle. Gabriel’s eyes narrow to slits and he bares his teeth, though his voice strains from exhaustion. “Enough of this! So you have me where you want me. _Me!_ So leave him and deal with me, you craven beast!”

Laughter erupts from Trevor’s throat as he closes the distance, extending one of his elegant arms towards him. “I think not. I must show him as well what it means to defy me.”

Gabriel shivers as his son grazes a pointed nail down his exposed chest, light enough not to split the skin, but enough to draw out goose pimples across his flesh. The gaze of Satan behind Trevor’s piercing yellow eyes, like a stalking predator in the bush, never leave his. Yet Gabriel keenly aware of his son’s proximity, and of his stark nudity inching closer. Gabriel cobbles together strength enough to growl from his gut, “I will destroy you.”

“I never doubted your intention on that point. But you will not harm my chosen vessel. The hesitation in your eyes assures me.”

Gabriel snarls as he again pulls against his chains, but they begin to burn his wrists. In his weakened state, he can only thrash and writhe. “Do not touch me!” he barks helplessly.

“Ah, there it is. I sense a disheartenment in this body, but no anger. It’s as though your son expects your rejection, your withdrawal. But it matters not to him. It seems your son has a lot of... _deep_ affection for his father, buried and smothered under a veritable mountain of disappointment.” He grumbles, “How utterly predictable that is. I’ve done my work through many just like him. I almost feel sorry for the whelp.”

He traces his claw back up and under Gabriel’s chin. Trevor’s eyes flare wide, the devil within struck by an epiphany. “No, there’s more under there than just ordinary filial affection. Why, he _worships_ you. Do you realize this? No matter what you become, what chaos you reap, he thinks of little else. Your admiration. Acceptance. Intimacy. _Desperately_ so.”

Gabriel refuses to flinch when Trevor, little more than a marionette for Satan’s designs, next turns his hand out to graze his nail across his father’s cheek. His finger descends and trails a searing path back down his chin, down past his collarbone, and further, further. He leans forward, and Gabriel flinches in a vain attempt to draw back his hips.

“Don’t-,” Gabriel pleads, swallowing hard as Trevor feathers his fingertips across his groin.

Trevor grins devilishly. His teeth hover close enough to bite, and he lifts up one graceful leg, then the other to straddle him. His sweet breath blooms across Gabriel’s cheek when he continues, “But here. Here is an opportunity to drag his secret past his well-deserved disappointment in you. I can help him show you. Make you understand his devotion. Aren’t you even curious?”

Gabe’s stomach knots like a fist as he listens to his clothing below the waist rends and tears like paper beneath Trevor’s honed claws. The cool air of the church kisses the rapidly exposed skin. He barely registers Trevor’s hand snaking out and around the back of his head, threading long pale fingers between his dark locks. His cock springs free as his son yanks him forward and crushes his lips to him. Gabriel tenses at the violent contact, with a pang of nausea pooling in his gut causing him to grunt against his son’s cool, soft lips. Satan seizes the opportunity to rudely pry his lips apart and thrust his tongue inside.

Gabe emits another grunt of protest and revulsion, but it sounds alarmingly like a moan against his son’s demanding lips. His hips jerk forward in flagrant betrayal as Trevor’s fingers ghost over his straining member. He can feel Satan’s smile against him as his cock twitches again when Trevor’s fangs graze his bottom lip. The sweet tang of blood rushes between their mouths, and the next groan he stifles is not one of revulsion.

Trevor pries his bloody lips off of him at that, chuckling darkly. “That’s it. I offer this knowledge to you both. A sweet, sumptuous fruit, ripe for plucking.”

Gabriel clenches his teeth and his nostrils seethe, but he cannot keep his voice from cracking as he pleads. “You unholy, wretched creature. If you want to destroy me, then _destroy_ me! Cease this sick game and leave my son. Now!”

Trevor clicks his blood-stained tongue and sighs, shifting as he rolls his groin against Gabriel’s, and the latter’s throat closes over a strangled sound, something between a moan and a sob. The former says, “How many times I have heard that, from so many fathers and mothers over the centuries.”

Gabriel protests against his restraints once more as Trevor lifts up from him in order to slowly, agonizingly descend his blood-caked torso, until his face is level with his hips. He settles between his father’s legs, and his breath ghosts over his member as he gives him an appraising look. “But I’ve never inhabited a son with such _complicated_ feelings towards his sire. Trevor wants to hide it from me, from you, but he cannot. He is powerless against me, and a need he has buried for centuries. The sight of you hard and wanting for his touch _thrills_ him. The approval, the validation.” Trevor pants heavily, rasping as he says, “It’s almost overwhelming.”

Gabriel sees one of Trevor’s hands slip down the flawless skin of his waist, and he grips his straining cock, plump and rosy with need. “Trevor, stop…!” Gabriel grinds out, but punctuates with a gasp as his son’s lips cover the head of his cock.

_This can’t be happening._   The delicate heat of his son’s mouth over him sears into memory, a forbidden knowledge that sickens him to his core-- but he doesn’t soften. If anything, he grows painfully hard between his son’s lips. He knows Satan deals in lies, but the betrayer within Gabriel’s own mind wonders if what he spoke of his son’s desire is the truth. Not wonders. _Hopes_ , he thinks, and a lusty groan escapes his torn lips as his son’s lips envelope him fully, and his tongue traces every contour of his cock.

His son pops off of him, a pink flush painting his pale cheeks. “You see? This is how your son wants you. This is how he wants to kneel, to prostrate himself before you. He denies it, but I can feel his body as it cries out.”

“ _Please._ ” _Please stop_ , he wants to say, but his cock aches for more-- and he’s no longer sure of what part of him is real and what part of him is the traitor.

Trevor grins. “‘Please’, you say? Are you begging already? And I almost had some respect for you. Why, we have not even begun. After we’re finished, everything you’ve taken from me will have worth it.”

He guides his cock back between his lips, and his mouth swallows Gabriel up again with vigor, his lips slurping over a cock that seems all too large for him yet it disappears between his lips with ease. Gabriel flinches against the shackles, wanting to grab him by the hair, though he cannot be sure whether it would be to throw his son off or...or…

His hips jerk at Trevor cutting away that lasts strips of fabric between him and the air, shivering as the cool, dry air rushes back in over him. A desperate, alarmed yelp erupts when he feels a prodding at his asshole, and a second later he is breached by Trevor’s thin fingers without preamble.

Despite the jolt of discomfort, Gabriel throws his head back and _groans_ as he slides back into Trevor’s throat, its dewy, velvety walls enveloping him completely. His son takes him deeply for several strokes, and with a rumble of a groan that vibrates through his cock. He in turn takes his son’s fingers.  One, then two.

“ _Trevor_ ,” Gabriel breathes, keeping his chin raised and willing himself not to look down at the bobbing of his son’s silver mane. It’s not Trevor, but part of him knows Trevor is still present, watching, witnessing his own father, the fearsome Dracul, lose his nerve and come apart under his sweet supplication. His breath labors out in hot puffs. These are images that will be seared into his son’s memory, as the feel of his soft, willing mouth has seared into his. “I’m sor-!”

He bucks, groaning again as his climax coils. He’s going to come in his son’s mouth, and there’s nothing he can do to hold it off as he chances a short glance down, seeing the faint pink filling in his son’s cheeks as his cock vanishes between them. The fingers in him curl and stoke his inner walls, strumming him roughly.

But suddenly, all too suddenly, Trevor slows his galloping pace and pops off without ceremony, his chin coming to rest beside his angry red cock. Gabriel bites his lip as a whimper blows out his flared nostrils.

“Is it good, Father?” Trevor coos.

With fingers still planted up his ass, the soft reverence of _father_ on his lips nearly pushes Gabriel over the edge. He bites back a roar and squirms.

“Is it good?” his son repeats as he climbs back up to straddle him, extracting his long fingers from his core. His hand slides up over his balls and wraps around his cock, where he gives an agonizingly slow pump.

“Son, if you’re there…”

Fangs sink into his collar, the one still clean of blood, but soon dark rivulets trickle over his collarbone. Trevor pumps him again. “Is it good?” he asks, harsh and hot against his ear, the thick scent of blood wafting past Gabriel’s nostrils.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Gabriel groans, bucking into Trevor’s hand.

“You want to come, don't you?” Trevor asks.

Gabriel screws his eyes shut. Another sharp bite punctures his shoulder and they pop open again with a cry of frustration.

Trevor grins. “I’ll let you come, but it’ll be inside him. Inside your own son.”

“No, please,” Gabriel pleads, but with Satan in control, Trevor is deaf to his voice as he sits higher onto his lap and guides the tip of him to his son’s tight entrance. “You won’t...he’s not….”

“Oh, I won’t feel a thing. But I can’t say the same for _him_. Still…”

Trevor swipes up a dab of blood onto his finger, then brings it to his lips. He coats it with a generous amount of saliva, and Gabriel can only watch transfixed as those same fingers disappear behind his son’s buttocks. He wants to look away, _should_ look away as his son’s arm flexes, massaging his asshole just out of view. Trevor’s cock hovers precipitously close, jutting against his chest. The crisp, salty scent of him pushes Gabriel further to the edge of madness as saliva pools on his tongue.

Satan shoves him further toward that precipice when Trevor thrusts his hips, rubbing himself over Gabriel’s chest. “He wants this, you know. He wants his father to know, as much as he wishes to fight me as you do,” he says.

The pink, glistening organ, and the heat running underneath its skin tempts him to lean forward. He hovers so close, yet not quite close enough for his lips to reach. Satan could not possibly speak true.

“Go on,” Trevor whispers, and Gabriel shrinks back as his son climbs higher onto the throne. Gabriel turns away, stifling a whimper behind a bite of his lip as Trevor’s cock brushes against his chin. He can also see Trevor still working his fingers inside himself, balancing himself against the back of the throne with his other hand.

“Please,” Gabriel pleads again, as useless as he knows it is. Trevor answers by surging his hips forward against his lips.

“Have a little taste. It’ll make things so much easier for your son.”

A dead weight drops in Gabriel’s stomach at that. He knows what’s coming next, with or without his cooperation. Combined with the pungent, sweet scent of his son just under his nose - so enticing as to be suffocating - it’s enough to make him turn his head, and let his lips fall open.

“That’s it,” Trevor coos.

Gabriel leans forward, his lips sliding over the head of his son’s cock, his tongue swiping the underside. The heady tang lights up his senses, and a hunger for more insists that he take his son as far as he can into his mouth. He hears Trevor grunt, his fingers working himself loose more insistently. Gabriel pulls back and surges forward again, taking him further. Making it good as he presses his tongue along him.

“Oh, he likes that,” Trevor says, the last word followed by a puff of breath as Gabriel takes him into his mouth again, and again, thoughts that this was his _son_ , that this was truly for his own sake, keeping his own erection firm even as the taste of his son was the only thing he knew. Even if he might love the taste. Even if he indulged in the thought of his son’s total adulation.

Rudely, just as Gabriel had gotten into a rhythm, Trevor seizes him by the scalp and tears him away. “He’s ready.”

Gabriel tenses as Trevor lowers, positioning himself again over his father’s straining cock. His son’s elegant hands come to rest just over his pectorals. A protest rises, and dies in Gabriel’s throat as the tip begins to nudge his son apart.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel says. “I’m sorry!” He grunts as the weight of his son falls, driving him upwards into soft, yielding flesh, trapping him in wondrous fire. His mouth falls open as he bottoms out, the full length of him buried in exquisite carnal pleasure.

Trevor’s nails dig into his shoulders as he rises and falls onto his cock. “You’re not sorry,” he says, dropping back heavily onto Gabriel. “And neither is he. This is more than he could ever dream of.”

Rise and fall, rise and fall, Gabriel’s restraints clatter as he jerks, desperate to seize his son by his hips and fuck him earnestly. Trevor smiles. “Admit it. You want to fuck him, come in him, give him all your fatherly attention.”

“N-no…” Gabriel grinds out.

Trevor slows their pace even further, his nails piercing into Gabriel’s flesh. “Why don’t you tell him? Tell your son how good he feels. How delicious his cock tasted. How proud you are of him.”

Gabriel bucks his hips into his son, desperate. “Trevor!”

“Tell him, or this sweet agony will never end.”

“ _Trevor…_ ”

Rise, fall. “Better. That sounded almost...affectionate. Like how a proper lover might say his name.”

“Trevor, I’m sorry.”

“Liar!” Trevor shouts, baring his teeth. He stops completely, and the bite of his nails stings again, drawing blood. “ _Tell_ him.”

Gabriel bites back another whimper at the lack of stimulation, and the self-loathing eating him alive. After several snorts through his flaring nostrils, he says, quiet as the empty cathedral, “It feels good.”

“What was that?”

“It feels good,” Gabriel repeats, a notch louder, cringing as his voice bounces off the stone walls.

Trevor grins, and his pace resumes. Gabriel doesn’t hold back a full-throated moan. “It feels _good_ ,” he says, again louder, less concerned about its echo through the space. In reward, Trevor rolls his hips faster, spurring into a brutal pace, his hot, panting breaths washing over Gabriel’s cheeks.

Gabriel throws his head back. “It feels good!” he throws up toward the ceiling, his volume just under a shout. “Trevor, son, _fuck_.”

Trevor chuckles as he bobs, ruthless and rapid. He takes himself in hand and strokes in a pace to match. “Oh, he likes the sound of that. What else does he want to hear?”

“Want this,” Gabriel hisses between grunts. “Your closeness. Adoration. Family! All I’ve got.”

“ _Yes._ And?”

“Cleverness, grace, power, beauty. You’re my son. My own flesh. _Mine!_ ” he snarls, feral and fanged. A pall of darkness descends over him as the last vestige of self-control gives way, and he bucks furiously into his son, matching brutal thrusts into the slam of hips against him. “And I’ll have what’s mine!”

Trevor shudders. “ _Yes!_ Have him. Have-!” His breath hitches, and a fluid heat, scalding as lava, spills across Gabriel’s chest and stomach. A second later, and he realizes that Trevor just came, spurting more between them as Gabriel continues to drive himself in over and over. Gabriel bares his fangs again, his thrusts upward turning from instead of smooth and constant to jerky and spasmodic.

“ _Trev-!_ ” he growls, planting himself fully, then jerking as his climax erupts, gasping as he is wrung out, and what cannot be contained spilling out in copious rivulets. The tight clench of his muscles flows out with his orgasm, and he sighs when he slumps back into his throne, and into a new depth of anguish.

He cannot look up. He cannot meet his son’s ethereal eyes. It pains him to think that he may never be able to do so again. Not willingly.

“That,” Trevor begins, sliding off of his lap. Darkly, “Went better than I could have expected. I look forward to our next time.” He turns away.

“Where-?” Gabriel starts, straightening as Trevor begins to walk away. Confusion grips him. “Where are you going?”

Trevor pauses, turning back around. His teeth flash in a wicked grin. “Please, do not fret. I intend to keep you here, but I will return with your son. You’ll never know when, as it could be day or night for all you know in this place. But when we do, I’ll make sure to have you two reaffirm your ardent devotion towards each other. You will fuck him, time after time, and it will be all you have to look forward to in this miserable eternity. I, in turn, will take great pleasure in making your son watch as his father, the great Dracul, breaks down little by little into no more than a rutting beast.” With that, he makes toward the obscurity of the shadows beyond.

“No! Why don’t you leave him and just kill me!” Gabriel shouts. “ You can destroy me now, for good!”

Trevor stops to glance at him over his shoulder. “I could. But where would be the fun in that? You _will_ be destroyed, make no mistake. It just may take several centuries longer than you hoped.”

Horror fully infects his blanched features as Trevor morphs back into a wolf and slinks off, a child of the night melding back into the void. As his tail vanishes, Gabriel becomes acutely aware of the crisp air drying out his exposed and clammy body.

“Trevor,” drops from Gabriel’s lips. “Trevor!” he shouts, the name bouncing through the cavernous sanctum.

Resounding silence meets him, save for the dull jingle of his chains.


	2. Unspoiled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here it is, chapter 2 by request! Just in time for the holidays, fortunately, as this chapter ended up being kind of a monster. 
> 
> A little less tortured happenings this time around, BUT there's still some dubcon and gore featured herein so you have been warnedly warned once again.
> 
> Feedback appreciated!

A snowflake drifts-- just a mere speck of it. It spirals downward, round and round in a lazy corkscrew. There, then gone.

He blinks, and stirs from his slouch. His pale body shivers, time lurching forward as the icy chill of the air seeps into his skin and chills his bones. He had taken for granted the passage of time, and how abstract it once seemed.

The stretch of his muscles sending throbs of dull pain through his legs, his back, everywhere. Yet the true agony is in the shift of seasons, proof of nearly a year passing by like an eternity, his body catatonic but his mind on edge. When would his nemesis would deliver his next dose of humiliation?

His chin tips down, and his gaze falls across his gaunt, blood-starved body, and to where his withered manhood rests limp and shriveled. He winces, guilty over calling forth still all-to-vivid sensation of being surrounded by his son’s warm body, and the comfort he takes in the memory.

Sitting here, decayed and cold, he even yearned for more.

He jerks his limbs, testing the thick, cursed chains binding his wrists and ankles. The cold, unyielding clang echoes through the cathedral, the effort as useless as before. He slumps. More snow now drifts and flutters in through the cracked stained glass windows, twisting through bars of moonlight, lingering, then vanishing.

A door hinge creaks, and footfalls pad along the stone floor. His threadbare pulse jumps. He bites back a pitiful whine. _No! Leave me b_ e, he aches to shout, but he smothers the sound in his throat. Sore with atrophy, he emits a pitiful gurgle. Whatever his desires, above all he cannot allow his adversary satisfaction in hearing his strangled pleas. A pathetic victory as there ever was given his state, but if this is his how he must pass the eons, then he’ll seize upon whatever accomplishment he can muster.

“Dracul.”

The last syllable of his name is drawn out, haunting like a ghost’s wail. And as though his cursed name were kindling, a pair of torches before his throne flicker to life, and sconces come alive in a warm glow without any natural cause. In the sea of deep shadows they cast, slits of wolfish eyes open, golden and predatory.

Gabriel turns away. The wolf skulks out from the shadows, and it morphs into his son as he takes human form. He hugs a black, collared long coat to his lithe and graceful form.

“Look at you. You might just catch the death of you,” he says with the words of Satan, the latter still in control of his son’s body. His eyes rake up and down Gabriel’s exposed body. “I thought I might help you stave off the chill. Put another log on the fire, as it were,” he says, prying apart his long coat and assaulting Gabriel an eyeful of his son’s naked body. He should be desensitized with dread, but his cock stirs with certain betrayal. He straightens, his stiff back protesting with a shock of pain from head to keel as Trevor skulks toward him.

His eyes dart to a strange twitch of Trevor’s nose, and a mysterious glint in his son’s eye, even as his son’s thick erection dangles precariously close to his gaining one. He presses his straining cock against his softer one, together in something of a fond embrace as Trevor straddles him.

There, again. That odd look in his eye. In his weary state, Gabriel is unsure if he only imagined it. But wonder infects and flourishes in him as Trevor runs a nail down his bare torso, tickling his belly, and whispering over his cock.

“You’re rather quiet. _Too_ quiet,” Trevor says, with the words of Satan. “Have you resigned yourself to this sweet torture so soon? How disappointing,” he says, his words dripping from his lip like poisoned honey. He drags his finger back up, under Gabriel’s chin, and presses it to his bottom lip. He hooks a nail and pries open the flesh. “Suck,” he commands as he shoves the digit past his fangs and over his tongue.

Gabriel’s tongue flickers over the intruder. “ _Suck,_ ” he hears again, and, after a hard swallow, he closes his lips over the finger and coats it with saliva. After a few seconds, Trevor rudely inserts a second finger. He scowls when Gabriel’s sucks are pathetic and weak. Gabriel sputters when he shoves his fingers in as far as they can go, then rips away his slick fingers without warning.

“I was hoping it would take at least a half a century before you crumbled,” Trevor says, shifting lower on his thighs and bringing his fingers down. He forces his hand into his trousers, ripping the seams without care. Gabriel flinches when he realizes the intended destination, but the restraints and weight of his son keep him pinned. “The struggle is what makes everything so worthwhile, as futile as it is. Don’t you agree?” Trevor says as he sweeps his tongue across his collarbones.

Gabriel cannot hold back the cry and sob that escapes him when those fingers breach him, without pause nor mercy, forcing open the tight ring of muscle. It burns a trail through him, and he bears down-- but to his horror, his cock throbs. He shuts his eyes to the sight of his weeping need curved against his belly.

Trevor chuckles as he rolls his hips, rocking forward into Gabriel’s lap as he bears his lips down upon him. The taste of his son’s mouth flows over his tongue as Trevor kisses him sweetly in mock affection. Revulsion churns in Gabriel’s gut, but when Trevor’s glistening cock strokes against his own, hope of rebellion drains as quickly as his body’s animalian lust replaces it. Just as his arousal roars for more, Trevor rips his lips away.

This time, there’s a twitch of the eyebrow. A dart of eyes downward towards his collar. He runs is free fingers across his own collarbone, and tilts his chin to stretch out a patch of tantalizing skin. When Gabriel leans forward, and the scent of fresh blood under his nose sends a pang of hunger screaming up from his core. But he is so tired, so feeble. All he can do is let his jaw fall open.

“He wants you to sup. Cheeky boy. But he’s right. Perhaps I have allowed you languish for too long without a proper meal.”

Trevor curls the fingers planted in his ass, and Gabriel jerks helplessly. Nonetheless, Gabriel is grateful lusty expression masks his curiosity at Trevor’s words. He senses his son’s calculating mind in them, and nearly smiles knowing he has more control over his intentions than even Satan realizes. Hope burgeons in his black heart.

He runs his tongue over his own slackened lips, and over his fangs. Straining with all of his strength, he leans up and grazes the tips along the crook of his son’s neck.

“Yes. Go on,” Trevor bids him.

His fangs graze, then puncture. From the first flood of metallic sweetness over his tongue, his instincts destroy his rational mind. He plunges forward, savagely ripping into the juncture of Trevor’s neck, blood oozing and dribbling down his chin as he slurps up warmth, sustenance, strength. With even just a few mouthfuls of blood, his shriveled muscles pink up with renewed vitality.

“Ah, that’s enough. Just a taste should do,” Trevor coos.

Gabriel takes his last few desperate gulps, expecting to be ripped away- but it doesn’t happen. He almost unlatches himself in wonder when Trevor slides his fingers out from him, and his other hand snakes around to his back and pulls, pinning him close to his chest.

“Enough!” Trevor growls, but his actions belie his puppetmaster’s commands. “How can you-!” he insists with increasing distress. “I said enough!”

The hold on his back redoubles, and Gabriel can feel his son’s presence in his embrace, holding on to their advantage for as long as he can. Gabriel smiles into the wound at his son’s neck, feeding just enough to feel the magic on his chains weaken their hold.

Then, Trevor - the real Trevor - says, “Father...his power is weak...”

Gabriel lurches, and the chains at each of his wrist _pop_ , then _pop_ again. His hands fly to his son’s bare shoulders, the skin under his fingers icy to the touch, and forces himself off his neck. Though he feels reinvigorated, his heart drops as his son, pale and clammy, slumps like a rag doll against him.

“Down...downstairs,” Trevor whispers, his long lashes fluttering with delirium.

Wasting little time, Gabriel snaps off the chains at his feet and sets Trevor gently onto the floor. Then, in a gale of black mist, Gabriel flies to the lower floor of the cathedral. There, at the altar, he spots the Vampire Killer, coated in a layer of dust.

“You will not escape! _Neither_ of you. Next it will be your wretched boy I place in that chair, and you shall defile him!”

He hears Satan speak in his own voice, and feels his evil presence gaining upon his back, but he does not look, does not stop not until his hand reaches out from his misty form and grasps the cold metal hilt of his timeworn weapon. Dust flies, and snow whips about as he at last spins around, thrusting the sharp pommel forward in a blind attack.

There’s a sudden stop as the whip plants deep into the broad, pale chest of his ancient foe. Satan lurches against the grievous wound, his eyes wide with shock.

Gabriel’s lip curls up in gloat. Rather than waste his words, he shoves forward, forcing the weapon even deeper. The breath caught in Satan’s throat releases, and he wails in anguish. A copious stream of blood runs over his hand, and pools at his feet.

Gabriel releases his hold on the Vampire Killer as Satan staggers backward, his demonic skin peeling and cracking. He drops to his knees, and with a terrible cry, his black soul shatters, rending the air around him like a clap of thunder. The glass of the cathedral shatters, variegated pieces raining all around the husk left behind. It disintegrates into the snow.

Police lights flicker off the cathedral walls and glimmer off of the broken glass. With haste, Gabriel takes the Vampire Killer, then ascends to collect the unconscious body of his son, wrapping him in his black long coat as well as he can. Hidden in black mist, he takes them outside the city as far as his strength will take him.

* * *

 

By the time the dawn rises, and the last pinches of snow fall upon the frost-blighted landscape, Gabriel drives through the last nail. With the windows boarded up, he steps back to inspect his handiwork, satisfied that not even the barest sliver of direct sun breaks through. The abandoned, one-room cottage has little more of use than but a chewed wooden chair, a filthy fireplace, and a straw mattress. A shattered bookshelf lies in a pitiable heap in a corner by the weathered door barely tethered to its hinges. But the place will do for now.

He tosses the hammer aside, and goes to his son’s prone form on the mattress. Trevor’s long coat covers him like a blanket as well as it can, and while the gash at his neck has stopped oozing, the flesh has yet to knit back together. It’s a poor sign for his condition, and Gabriel fears he let his instincts get the better of him-- or that his son’s plan was simply too reckless, and he should have known better as his sire.

Yet even with his pride, he could see that Trevor proved the better strategist. Their plot against Satan’s return proved his keen, calculating mind, both in his scheme, and in shepherding his father through his broken and amnesic haze. Trevor planned the rescue from Satan’s torture, while his ideas were exhausted.

Trevor’s intellect, when coupled with his own strength and grace, made quite the stunning picture. As Gabriel takes seat next to his son and lets his gaze rove over him. He simultaneously feels a burgeoning pride and a tinge of shame that such a marvelous creature held his own tainted blood in his veins.

Gabriel sighs. Being alone with his thoughts did him no good. He leans forward, pinching a corner of the long coat and tugging it higher across his son’s chest, but still leaving enough to cover up his dignity.

_Dignity._ Gabriel catches his head in his hands as he struggles to tamp down the urge to lay down beside his son, and whisper his regret.

A shuddering breath suddenly erupts from Trevor. His severe expression twitches and he rolls his head, but does not wake. His fit persists as though he were drowning in a nightmare.

With a snap of his teeth, Gabriel slices open a vein at his wrist. Reaching out, the blood drips across Trevor’s cheeks, then into his slackened mouth as he tosses and turns. He stills, his fit subsiding as his lips smack and his tongue draws in the nourishment out of reflex. Gabriel pours in more, letting him feed until Trevor tires of swallowing. His breathing settles, and he appears peaceful in his slumber-- content, even.

Gabriel figures he will require a human meal soon. He glances over to the ruined fireplace.

* * *

 

A blizzard howls against the stone walls of the cottage. The roof creaks; ice and debri clatter against the wooden door. Flint scrapes, and sparks fly.

More sparks cascade onto the mass of kindling in the fireplace until at last the first flames catch. Grabbing more twigs, Gabriel feeds and blows on the weak fire until the logs catch next. With an iron poker he found amidst the debri, he continues to coax the fire until a pleasant warmth fills the cottage.

Getting the fireplace in order kept him occupied as his son slept. Despite the blood meal Gabriel gave him, the bite wound at his neck is still appears raw. With the fire reaching high and crackling robustly, Gabriel puts a cast iron pot of snow atop the flame, and waits for the meltwater to boil.

When it does, he tosses in a torn scrap of cloth from his trousers. Minutes later, he removes the pot. Another moment, when the water is no longer scalding, he cleans out the wound with the boiled cloth.

In little more than his torn trousers, at dusk Gabriel chances leaving the cottage for a hunt. Extremely brief, as the matter of tracking and catching an unlucky snow hare proves trivial for a beast such as he. He skins and cleans the animal, skewers it on the poker, and pulls up the chair as he puts it to roast over the fire.

He rolls the poker in his palm. His ears perk, however, when he catches the briefest of rustles from the mattress.

“Fath...father.”

The iron skewer clatters as he tosses it down near the fire in a rush to Trevor’s bedside. His son’s shoulders are tense, and his eyes are glassy as he blinks, blind or delirious, perhaps both.

“Son,” Gabriel says, gently.

Trevor relaxes back into the mattress at the sound of his voice. “It is over?” he asks, closing his eyes.

“I slew him,” Gabriel says. “Finally.”

Trevor’s expression remains relaxed for a beat, as though he were in repose. “Good,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel says, the words rushing out from his throat.

Trevor is silent, long enough that Gabriel believes he slipped back into slumber. He starts, then, when Trevor says, “As am I.”

“You? What do you have to be sorry for?”

“For being too weak to fend him off. For letting him use me against you. For letting him do those things against your will.”

Gabriel snorts lightly. At that, Trevor cracks one eye open, eyeing him with scrutiny. It’s a question at which Gabriel responds, “Were you there? Present, I mean, even though your body was in his control?”

The eye shuts. “Yes.”

“Was it true what he said? About what you feel?”

Trevor doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Gabriel wonders if he heard the question until Trevor’s brow twitches as though in pain, and, so softly, the word yes falls from his lips.

“Son,” Gabriel starts, but shakes his head. He stands abruptly, and abruptly crosses over to the fire to collect back up the skewered rabbit. He drops back into the chair with a heavy thump, and goes back to rotating the meat over the flame. His face is hot, though he cannot determine if it’s wholly from the fire before him.

“We will discuss it when you are well,” he says, unable to look back over his shoulder. “In the meantime, you should eat, and rest. I will make sure no one disturbs us.”

When the hare is cooked through, Trevor rouses just enough to devour the meat to its bones. Slumber quickly claims him once more after the last morsel passes his lips.

* * *

 

By the following day, Trevor’s wound is nearly closed. Gabriel cleans it again, though with some difficulty as his son is wide awake, jerking away from the hot, soaked cloth when it touches a raw nerve.

“Hold still,” Gabriel admonishes, blotting at the sore flesh.

“Be gentler,” Trevor fires back.

Gabriel presses the cloth back to his neck. Warm water dribbles down over the back of Trevor’s shoulder, making him shiver. Despite himself, Gabriel smiles. His gaze flickers up to his son’s. He looks again to meet his son’s intense gaze reflected back into his own, and pauses his movements.

“Something the matter?”

Trevor’s stare falters. “Where will you go?”

“Go?”

“Once there is no more need to fuss like a wet nurse,” he says, batting Gabriel’s hands away. He sits up, his long coat sliding down and crumpling into his lap. “Now that the Mirror is destroyed. Now that all of this business is finished.”

Gabriel struggles with what to say as he takes in the hauntingly beautiful gold of his son’s eyes. There’s no more corruption in them, no more of Satan’s consciousness. He tears himself away to glance over at Vampire Killer, set upon the mantle over the hearth.

“I resolved to decide my own path,” Gabriel says, but a cold, hollow ache follows his words. “But I scarcely know what that is anymore.” The image of driving the weapon into Satan’s chest, and his look of pain and horror leap to mind. “I still yearn for an end to this miserable curse. I just...I just want to rest.”

Trevor nods as if he expected such an answer. “Father,” he says, with the barest tremble in his voice.

That sign of weakness alarms Gabriel, who whips around back to him to find illness, but instead finds bright, healthy eyes. They’re expectant, and as full of gold as a clear night sky. He swallows, finding his throat dry. “And you?”

Trevor wears a solemn look as he glances over to Vampire Killer. “I wish to restore the legacy of our kin. Even without Satan’s dark influence, powerful demons may still roam our world. They will have sensed yours and Satan’s absence, and will rush in to fill the void.”

Gabriel quirks a brow. “The Brotherhood is gone. Our kin is all but extinct.”

“Even so, there are still remnants,” Trevor says. “I am still a Belmont.”

“You are a fool.” Gabriel reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Trevor’s ear as he answers, slipping a claw under his chin.

Trevor looks back up to him, his eyes as deadly and focused as a hawk’s. “Are you disappointed in me?”

“No,” Gabriel says, removing his hand. “Never.”

Trevor snatches his hand, and Gabriel glances to it in surprise. His spine tingles when his son says, “If I am to never see you again, and if we are to be enemies once again, then I do not want my last memories to be tainted by Satan’s foul games.”

“ _Son._ ”

Trevor leans in, his breath wafting across Gabriel’s cheeks as he says,“Will you let me know you again, Father? Without him plaguing my thoughts, forcing my hands?”

“Trevor.”

“Unspoil me. Please. It shall be the last thing I ask of you.”

Trevor slides his lips across Gabriel’s. Gentle, chaste, with the barest pressure as he cups his father’s chin. Gabriel’s skin alights as though a lightning bolt split him on the crown of his head. _Unspoil it._

He hears a rustle of clothing, and he senses that Trevor has cast aside the coat in his lap.

“Wait,” Gabriel says as he peels off his lips, voice unsteady with desire. “You are still recovering,” he grinds out, summoning tremendous will to keep his gaze level with Trevor’s. He falters when Trevor slides off the mattress and onto his knees before Gabriel, and his elegant fingers slide up his thighs towards the crotch of his trousers.

“It was not all lies,” Trevor says when the tips of his fingers ghost over Gabriel’s groin. The latter aborts his reply as he sucks in a breath.

Trevor’s eyes dart up to his. He’s flushed and glassy when he confesses, “I loved it.”

Gabriel blinks, his mouth slack in disbelief when Trevor rises, throwing his legs over his father’s to straddle him. “I loved getting fucked by my father, the Great Dragon, on his own throne,” he says, kissing the corner of Gabriel’s lip.

Gabriel lurches, hands flying to squeeze at Trevor’s flanks. “Son.”

“Do I disappoint you now?” Trevor rasps.

“ _Never_ ,” Gabriel growls back, snaking his hand up to fist in Trevor’s silver locks. With his free hand, Gabriel reaches down to trace the pads of his fingers over his son’s hardening cock. The moment a groan escapes Trevor, Gabriel swallows it up as he presses forward with his tongue and through his son’s lips. Trevor returns his kiss, open-mouthed and hungry.

_Unspoiled_ rings through Gabriel’s mind as fire races from his lips, through his veins, and down to his stirring cock. The word doesn’t sit right in his mind as his flesh engorges. His son being so unspoiled by his father seems to be precisely the issue.

A rough tug on Trevor’s cock makes him gasp and they finally part. Gabriel snarls, lifting and planting Trevor onto his back across the mattress. He takes a moment to strip and tear away his trousers, so that when he lunges forward and pushes Trevor’s knees aside, his straining cock slides soft and smooth against his son’s. Trevor groans, and Gabriel hisses when his son reaches up around his shoulders and sinks his pinpoint nails into the skin he finds there. He feels the red flow, and when the scent of his own blood reaches his nostrils, his vision takes on a sanguine hue like a feral predator.

“Have me, Dracul,” Trevor whispers. “I want to see it. Show me the rutting beast Satan promised.”

Gabriel grunts coming to an abrupt halt as his cock slides his heat and a gob of precome across Trevor’s firm belly. He wants to burst from his skin that feels all too tight around his muscles. He wants to clutch his son by the throat and feel the sweet sounds he tears from it as he fucks him into oblivion. His lip quivers, his fangs bare.

“No,” he grinds out.

His hands snap to Trevor’s wrists, and he tears them off.

“Father?” Trevor asks, his quiet question all too loud within the walls of the solitary cabin. His heart sinks at the confusion rippling across Trevor’s brow. Gabriel can hardly speak as his urges war with his reason, so he shakes his head. Misreading him, Trevor shifts to move out from under him. At that, Gabriel redoubles his grip on his wrists.

Annoyance breaks through the surface of Trevor’s flushed expression. Gabriel swallows, realizing he’s close to breathless when he leans over to run his lips across Trevor’s ear. “Even if you were to beg me, I’ll never let Satan have victory beyond his grave.”

Trevor gasps when Gabriel growls and drops to his knees. The scent of his son’s cock, and the warmth of it caressing his cheek make him groan, and Trevor chases the heat of his breath with a shallow thrust.

“What are you-?” Trevor starts.

“Spoiling you,” Gabriel says as he swallow up the head of Trevor’s twitching cock. He bobs and bobs, pleased at the undignified sob Trevor makes. When Gabriel cups his balls, he’s unprepared when Trevor plants his feet and bucks up into his throat. His throat resists at first, but on his next descent he relaxes and savors the glide of cock along the back of his throat. His hands leave his balls and move to take firm handfuls of his son’s ass. He kneads the flesh under his fingers as he pulls, spreading the cheeks wide.

Trevor halts his sighs and groans as Gabriel pops off, his lips dripping and glistening with saliva, dragging them down along the shaft, over his balls, and moistening the valley just before his entrance. He draws back just enough to let his breath ghost over the sensitive flesh. Trevor jerks his hips.

“I’m going to feast on you,” Gabriel tells him, slipping his arms under Trevor’s thighs and hooking them over. “Try not to pass out again,” he says with a flash of a grin. Trevor thrashes when Gabriel plants his wet lips on his hole. He unhooks an arm to reach up to squeeze Trevor’s aching cock.

“Father-!” Trevor chokes on his question when Gabriel’s lips return to his tight hole, sucking the rim, then running his hot tongue across the knit flesh. Trevor bucks wildly, but Gabriel reins him in with a harsh squeeze on his cock. The wet, squelching noises are interrupted only by Trevor’s intense panting and desperate growls, and Gabriel glances up he notices the glint of fangs behind his son’s full, pink lips.

Need floods to Gabriel’s own groin. He unhooks his other arm to slide behind himself, pressing the pad of his finger against his own hole while he struggles to keep his lips fused to Trevor’s. He pulls back when Trevor bucks again.

“You really do love this, “ Gabriel says, shocked at how gravelly his voice sounds. He presses a finger inside himself to the first knuckle, wincing at the dry resistance. This won’t do.

“Please,” Trevor gasps, and Gabriel feels him twitch in the cruel grip of his hand.

“No,” Gabriel tells him, rising. He releases his cock. He flashes a crooked smile as Trevor’s stares up, breathless as he straddles him, and brings the inside of his wrist to his lips. His fangs slice open the skin, and the wound weeps blood across Trevor’s chest, and down his undulating chest as he pants.

Gabriel hisses when hot drips of blood splatter over their cocks. He collects some onto his fingers and reaches back, smearing it along the rim of him. His breath catches in his throat when Trevor reaches out and grasps them both in his hand, stroking them both. He collects more blood with is other hand, and follows Gabriel to where he’s working himself open.

“That’s it,” Gabriel says, rolling his head back as Trevor’s finger joins his in pushing past the tight muscle. It burns, but it’s so much better this time. Together, working in unison, they coax the smooth muscle to yield to the intrusion. Gabriel chances a glance down, and when he catches sight of Trevor’s slack lips and lidded eyes, he strains to keep himself from tumbling over the edge.

His control slips further when he raises himself and Trevor guides his cock to slide between his cheeks, smearing more blood and drying saliva over his hole. Gabriel grunts when Trevor works in another finger alongside his first, curling and massaging wherever he can touch. When he extracts his finger, Trevor doesn’t as he aligns the head of his cock with his entrance. His fingers keep him pried open as the tip of Trevor brushes his entrance, his only warning before the next moment, plunging himself inside with steady, unrelenting pressure.

“ _Fuck,"_ Gabriel grunts.  Searing pain grows and grows until Trevor bottoms out, seating himself fully within. His erection withers, but Gabriel grinds out, “Don’t stop,” before rocking forward, hard enough to make his son give and involuntary thrust. The pain seems to decay by half every second, and now Gabriel just wants him to move. “You want to have me? Have me, Trevor. Offer up your adoration for me. Let go of your struggle.”

Trevor’s lip quivers in a snarl, and despite the throbbing pain within, his cock perks up when Trevor clutches his buttocks and sinks his nails in. He slides out almost completely, then drives himself back in.

This is what he needs. This is what he deserves. His thoughts fail to travel much further as he blanks out as Trevor rolls his hips down and back up, panting as he bottoms out again. Then again, and again, pulling his cheeks apart as his cock splits him over and over. Gabriel’s cock regains its full vigor as it smears them precome and his own warm blood.

Trevor’s thrusts are as brutal as they are urgent, and when he strokes roughly across a point within Gabriel, the latter throws his head back and cries out, feeling the chaos within him explode and reform, and the darkness of night envelope them both.

“The Dragon,” Trevor sighs, followed by another groan tearing from his throat. His thrusts grow short and erratic. “Such terrible darkness.”

Gabriel gasps as warmth spills into him, cloying and gentle as the crackling fireplace nearby. Gabriel feels his son’s orgasm gush out of him as he slams down, taking him as deeply as he can. Trevor’s sweat-laden hands fly to his cock and balls, brutally stroking and twisting him.  With a hoarse cry and rough jerks of his hips, he releases across their blood-caked torsos.  He sits for a moment, sighing as the burn recedes while Trevor's cock softens within him.  A slurry of blood and come rolls down his thighs when he finally extracts himself.

He snatches up the iron pot and, nude and exposed, he throws open the cottage door and steps into the dark tempest of snow, gathering more up into the heavy container. He hauls it back in, and sets it to warm over the fire. After the moment the meltwater takes to warm, he sets about cleaning himself up and Trevor with a shred of cloth.  His son only watches him, saying nothing as the heavy rise and fall of his chest recedes. Once the blood and semen have been cleansed away, Gabriel fetches up his long coat and tosses it onto the mattress beside him.

“Thank you,” Trevor says as he stands. 

Gabriel doesn't reach for him.  Instead, he regards him, taking the moment to admire the vision, as splendid as the full moon. “You could stay with me.”

Trevor’s gaze narrows. “You know that I cannot.”

The corner of Gabriel’s lip tugs into a smile as he nods. He glances over to Vampire Killer. “Then do what you must.”

“If you do not find your rest, then I shall deliver it to you.”

“I expect that you will.”

Trevor picks up his long coat and slips it on. His tears his eyes away, saying, “Goodbye, Father.”

The blaze in the hearth snuffs out in an instant.  The cottage door flies open. Snow whips and blows as a black mist pours forth and snakes towards the tree line. It threads between the wood, until melds into the interminable darkness.


End file.
